Reverie
by LoyalSilver
Summary: A story of love, loss and dreams. Jonathan and Maddy haven't seen each other in almost ten years. With Jonathan's marriage failing, and Maddy hiding a few secrets of her own, can they rekindle their relationship, and do they even want to?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello! Thanks in advance for reading. Please have patience between chapters - I intend for this to be a long-ish story, but there's a long way to go! Please comment, good or bad, as it all helps.

Thanks and gratitude to David Renwick for creating such incredible characters who have stood the test of time. I hope he doesn't mind me stealing them for a while.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

The majestic sails rotated slowly in the wind with a hint of sun peeking out from behind clouds to bathe the old building in a golden light, illuminating one side and casting a long evening shadow across the ground. Jonathan Creek trudged along the length of the lane leading up to the windmill, taking none of the pleasure he used to in the view of the place which had been his home since childhood.

He'd been back living here again for about ten weeks, since he and Polly had decided to separate. It wasn't that he hadn't seen it coming, hadn't realised they were having relationship issues. Of course it wasn't perfect, but wasn't that normal? He had been trying his best to make her life as easy as possible, to stop the little silly arguments which had been creeping their way into their life, but that only created more antagonism; her calling him spineless, telling him to be more of a man.

Polly was a beautiful woman. No doubt about it. That was what had done him in in the first place. A gorgeous woman like her wanting him. That didn't happen to Jonathan, didn't happen to men like him. So when it did, finally, after so many years of short liaisons or unreturned affections, he dove straight in, with barely a thought as to their actual compatibility.

He wasn't ready to admit to himself what others could clearly see; that he'd changed himself too much into what Polly wanted and expected of him. That he hadn't been happy in himself since they'd got together. And that ultimately there would have to be a breaking point where his resentment, acknowledged or otherwise, would rise up to the surface. It was quite incredible that a man with such insight into others' motivations was so oblivious to his own.

For now though, he remained ignorant to his real emotions, and spent his evenings and weekends in relative solace, trying to reconcile what had happened in his own head. He thanked whatever gods may exist that he hadn't had the heart to sell the mill when Polly had suggested it early on. They'd since moved back out of London, but when they'd first got together, she'd wanted them to get further up the property ladder, which would have entailed selling quickly. Thankfully, by moving into the advertising world and attracting a bigger salary, plus the benefit of ongoing book royalties from the publisher of one Maddy Magellan, Jonathan had been able to secure them a sizeable home in Islington whilst also maintaining ownership of Shipley Mill. Since then, she'd tried again to get him to sell it but that had, in fact, been one of the final straws. He'd tried to convince himself he was ok with it; he even went through all of his belongings and got rid of a lot of precious mementos (and a lot of junk, his treacherous brain reminded him) but in the end he just wasn't able to let go of the memories and history contained within its strangely shaped walls.

He was sitting in silence in his living room later that evening when the shrill ring of his mobile interrupted his dark thoughts. With a cursory glance at the screen, he sighed and then answered, sounding almost as depressed as he felt.

"Adam"

"Jonathan!" came the response, his ex-employer sounding impossibly overjoyed to be speaking to him. "I've decided it's time for a night on the town. You and me. Friday. What do you say?"

Jonathan sighed once more, audibly down the phone this time.

"I'm not taking no for an answer." said Adam.

"No" said Jonathan firmly.

"Yes" responded Adam with his insane positivity. "You need to blow off some steam, get back into the real world."

"I'm in the real world Adam. I'm going to work every day, surrounded by real people in real London. I don't need to experience real nightclubs and real strippers to know that this is my real life".

Even Adam faltered at the darkness with which this statement was delivered, but then followed up with a question. "Well, what _do_ you need?"

"Peace and quiet" came the reply.

"Jonathan…let me help you."

"You can't" he said bluntly, then took a deep breath in, realising he was being unfair. "I just need some time to process everything".

"I understand that, but you can't process everything on your own. You need to talk about it. And I'm willing to listen". Jonathan's eyes widened slightly, surprised at the insight and compassion of the man he had often considered to be void of any feelings.

"Friday", pressed Adam, "We won't go out. Come to mine, or I'll come to you".

"Ok, ok."

"Yes?" queried Adam, surprised he'd actually gained agreement. "Yes, right, Friday. 8 ok? I'll come to yours…which is, uh, where exactly?"

"I'm back at the mill"

"Ok, great, excellent. I'll see you then. Friday at 8. And Jonathan?"

"Yes?"

"I know I'm not very good at this but I really do want to help you".

"Thank you Adam. See you on Friday". Jonathan ended the call and tapped the phone against his chin, a hint of a smile ghosting across his face as he appreciated what it must have taken Adam to say that. Quickly though, he sunk back into his thoughts, staring into nothingness until he forced himself to get up and go to bed. Alone.

* * *

The rest of the week passed uneventfully for Jonathan, with more of the same. Using all the energy he could muster to get through each day at work, he talked to as few people as possible and closed his door to the outside world when he could. He hid away in his lunch breaks and rushed home in the evenings to his sanctuary. He was amazed how many people assumed they knew what he was going through and what he wanted, those who'd been through a separation or divorce who thought he should be 'getting back out there', 'finding a rebound' or any one of a number of other ridiculous clichés. As such, it was almost a relief to find Adam already at his door when he got home on Friday night, despite his brain reminding him how ironic that was because Adam would probably tell him every one of those clichés too. Perhaps they'd be a little more palatable coming from someone he knew well enough to shoot down immediately though.

"Hi" he said, smiling at the familiar face before him.

Adam looked a little disconcerted at the vision of Jonathan before him, looking so dishevelled and tired, but he covered it well with a gleaming smile and approached the other man to give him a hug. At this unanticipated gesture, Jonathan wilted a little and his body gave an involuntary shudder as he tried to keep his feelings in check, and a sob threatened to force its way out.

He buried it down quickly, and fished out his keys, inviting Adam in and sending him up to the living room as he grabbed a couple of glasses for the wine which Adam had brought.

Adam poured two large glasses of "the best Pinot Noir in the world, from a little place in the south of New Zealand", which he'd visited two years previously, and they settled into the sofas opposite each other. Both looked apprehensive at the situation and conversation ahead of them, it feeling so unusual for them both.

"So, perhaps we should start with something easy" suggested Adam, "How's work?"

Jonathan snorted slightly, "I'm not sure that the easiest conversation point for the two of us, is it?"

Adam returned a grim smile and tilted his head in acquiescence, acknowledging the difficulties they'd had when Jonathan had handed in his notice. "Well, hopefully we're past that these days. It has been, what, five years?"

"Almost" he replied, and then took a deep breath before responding to the question. "It would be hard enough to keep up a good standard and concentrate on everything without having to deal with it being the family business. Polly's gone to work out of the New York office, and thankfully her Dad's over there too, but that doesn't stop the gossip", he gave Adam a pained smile and took a swig of wine. "So I need to make a decision what to do, or perhaps one is going to be made for me before I have a chance".

"You know there's always a job with me Jonathan".

That received Adam a glare in return. "Really? Let's manipulate Jonathan's disastrous love life again for the good of Adam. Is that why you're here?"

"No! No. Absolutely not' responded Adam, visibly shocked at Jonathan's outburst. "I just meant…if you need anything at all, I'm here. I didn't mean…"

Jonathan sighed and gave in. "I get it, Adam. It's ok. I'm just a bit nervy at the moment, sorry." Then followed up with a grim smile, "Not getting much sleep".

"So you miss her?" queried Adam, genuinely intrigued by an emotion he didn't think he was much capable of, and feeling a little more brave to press for some deeper truth after several mouthfuls of wine.

"Yes. Well…I think I do, but then I wonder if I just miss the companionship, what I had got used to. And I'm also enjoying the solitude of being back here. London's so busy. All the time. But then I feel like I'm being unfair and unfaithful to her somehow."

"By enjoying being alone?"

"I'm not enjoying it exactly. My brain doesn't stop wondering what I could have done to save our relationship. But I'm remembering…oh I don't know, it sounds ridiculous."

Adam had the sense to stay quiet and wait for Jonathan to complete his stream of thought.

And after an extended silence, Jonathan did just that. "I feel more like me than I have for a long time" he said quietly, looking squarely into his wine glass.

Adam let that sink in, for Jonathan more than himself. He was relieved to hear it come out of Jonathan's mouth. Then he changed the subject again and they spent the remainder of the bottle of wine reminiscing about old times. It was only as they were halfway through bottle two that Adam asked another question of Jonathan.

"Did you…do you…really love Polly more than any other woman you've been with?"

Jonathan took a moment to respond. "I thought I did. When we met. When we were first together. On our wedding day" he sighed. "But now, I just don't know anymore." A pause. "I wonder if lust got the better of me."

"As compared to…?" Adam left the question open-ended, thinking blatantly of Maddy but not quite brave enough to voice her name.

Adam saw the turmoil on Jonathan's face as he made to start a sentence three times before simply shrugging his shoulders and gazing off into the distance in that inimitable way of his. Then, after a prolonged silence, Jonathan surprised Adam by speaking again.

"I assume you mean Maddy" he said, raising a cynical eyebrow towards his ex-employer, and receiving a small nod in return. "It's been over ten years, Adam. There's no point dredging up the past, and you know we were never really together anyway."

Another silence and another sigh. "I don't understand this obsession you all have with her. With us", Jonathan continued, with some anger in his voice.

Adam shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then reasoned that the wine had loosened his lips enough to tell the truth; no bull for once, and echoing the sentiment that Jonathan had expressed a minute before. "Because you were you when she was around." he said simply.

He let that short sentence hang in the air for a while, then he continued with an ironic smile, "And I may not know much about long-term relationships, but I do know that most of them end up with little or no sex anyway, so the sexual nature of your relationship was secondary to the fact that you were a couple in almost every other way."

Jonathan didn't respond, he just looked ill at ease at possibly the most perceptive sentence Adam had ever uttered in his life, and averted his gaze anywhere except towards the man sitting opposite him.

Suddenly something else occurred to Adam and he asked, "What did you mean, 'all'?" Jonathan looked at him, puzzled. Adam continued: "You said 'this obsession you ALL have'".

Jonathan rolled his eyes but answered the question. "It's not just you. My parents too. They never even met her. But mum's friend Ingrid…you remember Dr Strange and the monkeys?...she told them all about her. And they've read the books. For some reason they took a liking to her and they've never let it go either. It wasn't particularly fair on Polly."

"In what way?"

"It was never anything obvious. Not directly to Polly anyway. They just weren't as warm to her as I'd have expected to the potential mother of their grandchildren."

Adam frowned, not quite making the same non-sequitur which Jonathan had in his head, "Are you sure that was because of Madeline?"

"Yes! Well, no, I mean…I suppose not. I just assumed…" Jonathan tailed off, his voice faltering as he continued, realisation dawning on his face. "I just assumed it was because of her. I didn't ever think that maybe they just didn't like Polly".

"I didn't think you made assumptions about anything" said Adam, keeping his voice gentle, and topping up Jonathan's glass with the last of the wine.

"Sometimes love can do that to a person". Jonathan said meekly, and Adam wondered if his friend even knew his comment could be taken to relate to either woman. He could see Jonathan's mind moving at a million miles an hour and waited a few minutes before he spoke again.

"So, in the end, was it you or she who…?"

"Polly? Who ended things?" asked Jonathan, to clarify what Adam meant. A nod from the other man. "Me. Well, both of us I suppose. We'd been arguing for months. Or, to be more specific, _she'd_ been arguing for months, or trying to. I'm not very good at arguing," he sighed. "Every little thing I did was wrong – what I said, what I cooked, what ideas I came up with at work, what clothes I wore…it was never ending."

"And you had enough?"

"I was trying to make things better. Trying to do what she wanted, what she needed. But it just got worse. I couldn't see a way out," said Jonathan, gloomily. "I still can't. If I could just figure out what to change, what to do to fix it…" his sentence trailed off as he continued back into deep thought once more.

"It doesn't sound like there was anything you could have done," said Adam softly.

"That's the conclusion I'm coming to as well," replied Jonathan sadly.

The pair rounded off the evening with a large pour of Lagavulin, and some more reminiscing, before Adam said his goodbyes, and told Jonathan he'd be back again next Friday evening.

Jonathan remained pensive and sat on the sofa with another measure of whisky, taking his time to think through the conversation with Adam, which had been surprisingly helpful for him, although it would take him the weekend to process all of what had been discussed.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

The following Friday, Adam was once again waiting at Jonathan's door, this time with a bottle of Bruichladdich, bypassing the wine and moving straight to whisky. For his part, Jonathan had thought ahead and prepared some food so that the next day's hangover wouldn't be quite as intense as the previous week's. In the end, they started off with a bottle of wine from Jonathan's kitchen and settled down to the table to eat.

Adam had had an eventful week putting the finishing touches to his next run of shows in the West End, set to begin the following month. Most excitingly for him, though, was that for the first time ever he had been invited to present a series of shows in Las Vegas later in the year.

"Sin City, Jonathan. Can you imagine? All those gamblers, all that sunshine, all that ass."

Jonathan rolled his eyes at Adam with a smirk on his face, "I'm sure you'll love it."

"I know I will. We have some great new pieces for the London show which we can take across, and we'll create some new ones especially for Vegas."

"What are the new ones?" Jonathan asked innocently, his curiosity sparking.

"Not jealous, are you? You'll just have to come see the show." Adam said jokingly. "You and I both know I would prefer to still be working with you" he conceded, "But I have to make do, and Charlie really is excellent at what she does."

"And she's too smart to ever sleep with you," retorted Jonathan.

"You wound me" said Adam lightly, "But you're right. I've given up even trying."

"Respect for a woman, Adam? I never thought I'd see the day."

Adam grinned, before saying, "You seem much more positive today. How's the week been?"

"I have to thank you for last Friday, I think" responded Jonathan. "It helped clarify a few things for me."

Adam waited while Jonathan gathered his thoughts and took a breath before carrying on, "I handed in my notice on Monday, which they accepted, and they allowed me to finish up today instead of working out my three months. I am now officially unemployed," he said with a small smile, and raised his glass towards Adam in a 'cheers' motion.

"That's great. To be honest, I'm relieved," said Adam, reaching over and chinking his glass against the other, "I think it will be good for you to get away from there for a while."

Jonathan nodded, and continued, "I've decided to take some time out. I'm going to visit my parents in the US. I leave on Sunday."

"Wow. So soon".

Jonathan shrugged and replied with a hint of bitterness, "Why not? Nothing keeping me here."

"Where are they?"

"Philadelphia. Dad taught at the university. Long retired now, but they stayed. Their life is there now."

"But not their son" ventured Adam.

Jonathan shrugged again, "That was my choice. I could have gone there to study when they emigrated, and then got a job there, but I wanted to stay in the UK. We're still close. They haven't forgotten about me."

"I wish mine would forget about me," intoned Adam, conjuring images of his older sister Kitty.

"Oh, don't say that, Chester!" joked Jonathan, using the birth name which Adam hated.

"Ha ha. Very funny," rebuked Adam, secretly pleased that Jonathan was in somewhat of a good mood. "So, how long are you going for?"

"I don't know. I got an open ticket. They might drive me crazy in a week, or I might stay longer."

"And then what?"

"I don't know," Jonathan repeated, "which is quite a good feeling."

"More advertising, do you think?" pressed Adam.

"There is a part of it I enjoy. A lot of it is like solving puzzles, trying to figure out what the consumer wants, how best to manipulate them…but that's the problem. At least with magic, people know and expect that they're being manipulated. I've never been completely comfortable with doing the reverse."

"I've never thought of it like that before" said Adam, looking a little perplexed.

"Neither did I, until I started working there." A pause, before he continued, "It was never the dream, was it? Me working in the corporate world. But I don't hate it."

"But you don't love it either," stated Adam, not even needing to voice it as a question.

"No" he answered honestly. "But there are plenty of worse things I could be doing. And there were lots of downsides to showbiz too."

"Ah, but the upsides Jonathan. What about the upsides?" responded Adam with a smile on his face.

"Watching you get all the glory?" deadpanned Jonathan, "Yeah, fantastic," he smirked, and then continued after a pause, "I'm looking forward to taking some time out with no plans or expectations. I don't know what's going to happen afterwards but that's ok."

"Well, as long as you promise to visit me in Vegas if you're still over there in September."

"I'll let you know."

Adam then broached another difficult subject, "Have you spoken to Polly?"

"She doesn't want to talk to me right now. But she knows I'm leaving. I suppose she'll come back to London once I've gone."

"What do you mean? Why won't she talk to you?"

Jonathan shrugged and stared into his glass, "She says she needs more time. I don't know."

Adam was silent for a minute before thinking out loud, "Do you think she's frustrated that you're refusing to fight with her? If that's the only way she was communicating before, she was able to use that to blame you for what's happened, but now you've taken away that reason. So it's easier for her not to talk to you than face up to the truth."

Jonathan was stunned in the face of such blazing insight, and only after a long pause did he try to lighten the mood, "What's your name and what have you done with Adam Klaus?"

Adam smiled somewhat self-consciously and responded with a hooded commentary of his own life, "It's always easy to give other people advice that you refuse to take on board yourself."

"I mean it," continued Jonathan, "When did you become so insightful?"

Maybe I've always been insightful and you just never listened to me before," Adam teased.

"Maybe," came the response, "but I doubt it," he smiled as Adam pretended to look hurt. There was a moment of silence before Jonathan continued, "Much as it pains me to admit it, I think you're right. That's something I've realised since we spoke last week; that this is what she wanted, but she was too scared, or too much of a coward, to just do something about it herself. God knows I can be a pushover, but there's only so much I could take."

"Good," said Adam quietly, almost to himself, and then replied, "Like I said, maybe I recognise myself in that behaviour. And," he continued, "I wouldn't say you were a pushover, not _all_ the time."

"That's what I've felt like for a long time," sighed Jonathan.

"But not what you've always been," responded Adam, somewhat cryptically.

The conversation turned to other things, and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly between the two friends, with Adam feeling very relieved that Jonathan appeared to be on more of an even keel than he had the previous week, continuing to make a few jokes with his dry sense of humour, some of which Adam understood and some of which flew straight over his head.

The pair eventually said their goodbyes, more sober than they had been the previous week, having filled up on a deliciously seasoned scotch fillet along with the wine and whisky. Adam wished Jonathan the best for his trip to the US and made him promise to keep in touch while he was away, and Jonathan in turn made Adam promise to visit or meet with him if he was still over in the States when Adam arrived to prep for the Vegas shows.

Once more, Jonathan found himself deep in thought after Adam had left him to join one of his many current conquests back in London, or so Jonathan assumed. Despite his continuing dark disposition, he found himself a little perplexed to have been uplifted by Adam's visit and, once again, to have had a few more questions answered by their discussion.

He considered their talk and wondered whether he had, in fact, been a pushover for his whole life. He thought back to his childhood, and one tiny, specific memory came to him unbidden. He must have been around eight years old, and was outside playing in the garden, chasing after some orange and black butterflies. He remembered the summer light twisting through the tree branches, dappling onto his skin, making him squint to see the small, bright creatures as he followed them across the grass. He was so content in that moment, feeling only the light breeze as he ran, but then he heard the loud, angry voice of his dad shouting at him from the balcony of the windmill, and he stopped in his tracks, only to look down and realise that he was bang in the middle of the vegetable patch. His dad was livid that he'd been so careless, trampling across the herbs and through the tomato vines. Jonathan remembered the cold fear which gripped him as he watched his dad disappear into the mill and then reappear at the front door, marching towards his son. He almost felt the fat tears which had rolled down his cheeks as his father had told him off, but he had found himself incapable of speaking back and telling him it was a mistake, even as he'd felt his dad's anger increasing at his lack of response, and he'd then reprimanded him for crying, for not 'taking it like a man'. It was just one small moment in his life, and in hindsight the older man's behaviour had been, while not quite reasonable, at least understandable in view of his beloved veggie garden being destroyed. His dad had certainly not been a bully and probably didn't even remember the incident at all, but it had profoundly affected Jonathan's behaviour from that point on. He would much rather try to smooth over a situation than have it escalate to raised voices and the threat of a full-blown argument. He supposed he took after his mother in that way, but he had always been uncomfortable with how that tied with society's expectations of how he should behave as a male. From that point on, he became a little quieter, a little more timid, a little less reckless in any interaction with others. His parents must have assumed it was just him growing up, becoming less boisterous than he had been. But he remembered, still. The fear. The embarrassment. The need to be as small and quiet as possible in the hope that he could somehow disappear away from the moment completely. It was incredible that such a small incident could have shaped his life in such a massive way or, perhaps, Jonathan thought now, prior to that day it had already been shaped in ways he wasn't even aware of, but that was the moment he chose to remember. And that realisation, for a man who was used to keeping himself so controlled and closed off to the world, was a much scarier proposition.

Then he thought of Adam's further comment that he hadn't always been a pushover and took that to mean that he didn't used to be, when they had first met and started working together. In Jonathan's eyes, nothing could be further from the truth. He was at Adam's beck and call, morning, noon and night and had very little life of his own. He decided he needed to ponder that comment further in the fresh light of day, took a final swig of whisky, and trudged up the stairs towards his bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

It was a relief for Jonathan to be out of London and in a different environment; the space between the two countries was also helping to create space in his mind which made it easier to, if not forget, then put aside his problems and become his more rational self on a more regular basis. He was also surprised to find that his parents were more helpful than not in this endeavour. He had assumed that they would attempt to coddle him and he would be stifled by their need to help and protect their child. While this was, in fact, what they were doing, he discovered that reverting back to being a kid, which happened to almost every adult who returned to their parents' nest, was the best thing he could have done for his bruised soul. He was remembering who he had been, his hopes, dreams and aspirations bundled up to imagine a future that had not yet been created and which, he recognised now, had been well on their way to being achieved in earlier years of his adulthood, but not recently.

After his brother had passed away, Jonathan had become the only remaining child of parents who were also each single children, which meant that he had often been left to his own devices as a youngster, especially since Drs David and Sally Creek were both in full-time work as he grew up and, he now surmised, probably wanted to keep themselves as busy as possible to avoid facing the newfound quiet in their house. He'd often wondered how different his life would have been if Terry hadn't died, or even if he'd simply had another close family member such as an aunt or a cousin to spend more time with. It was that old nature vs nurture question of whether he was quiet, reserved and introverted due to his upbringing, or whether that was his natural state of being. And now these niggling memories and thoughts of incidents in his childhood made him question it further. It wasn't that this was something he wanted to change about himself; he couldn't bear the thought of being loud and (as he considered it) obnoxious, but he could see that his personality may well have placed him at his current station in life, allowing himself to be led into a position which was comfortable enough to be acceptable, enjoyable even, but that wasn't what he would (he now thought) have chosen for himself.

While he was somewhat unexpectedly enjoying being back in his parents' fold, he was also ensuring he was getting enough time on his own, taking advantage of the parks and wildlife reserves dotted around the Philadelphia city limits, walking and hiking the trails and enjoying the different nature on offer to him in a different part of the planet than he was used to. There was something very light and easy about America which he enjoyed; he was coming to understand that the sarcasm and self-deprecation which Brits employed even at their happiest times somehow undermined their enjoyment of situations, which simply didn't happen in the States. He knew that he was looking upon the city with privileged eyes, from the classy suburb of Bryn Mawr where his parents lived, to the luxury of not working for an extended period of time, and he was certainly not nearly naïve enough to ignore the signs of economic difficulties which he regularly spotted, but the difference in cultures could not be ignored.

His parents had long since retired, but his dad still guest lectured regularly at PAU and occasionally at Princeton, so Jonathan found himself spending more time with his mum and, in the month since he'd arrived, the two of them had inadvertently created a ritual of coffee and a chat at 4pm each day. Sometimes, if he wasn't working, his father joined them, but more often than not, it was just Sally and Jonathan. Their discussions varied wildly; one day they might talk politics or the situation in the Middle East, the next reminisce about an old TV show they'd watched as a family, the next a new medical technique which Sally had read about. The talks which Jonathan valued the most but equally feared the most were those relating to his own life, personal and otherwise. His mum was careful not to push him too much but, in that uncanny way which parents have, she often knew just what questions to ask on the day when he'd been pondering the same issues.

"Have you heard from Polly?" she queried on this particular day.

He nodded softly, "She emailed me yesterday. It was very matter of fact. She's back in London. She wants us to sell the house; she's going to move back into the city. She's getting divorce papers lined up."

"And how do you feel about that?"

Jonathan took a moment before he responded, sipping his coffee, "Numb" he answered simply.

"How do you feel about the divorce?" Sally pressed on, "Is it what you want now?"

He gave a pained smile, "I think 'want' is too strong a word. Divorce isn't something I ever anticipated."

"I don't think it's something anyone ever anticipates."

"No, I know. You're right. I suppose I mean that I thought I was past that, not getting married until my forties, that all the relationship drama had come before that. Obviously not", he ruefully shook his head.

"Oh sweetheart", said his mum, her heart breaking a little at the pain her son was obviously feeling.

"What do you think about it?" Jonathan asked, and could see that she was taken aback by the question.

"Well, it's not really for me to comment on. I just want the best for you, whatever that may be."

Jonathan, thinking back to one of his conversations with Adam, then continued with a question which had been plaguing him since. "You didn't ever think she was quite right for me though, did you?"

"I…well, we…" she stopped, even more perplexed by this turn in the conversation than the previous query. "Where did that come from?"

"A talk I had with Adam before I left. It made me wonder whether…so I thought I would just ask you."

Sally brought her coffee mug to her lips and took a slow gulp, taking time to consider her response before placing the mug on the table in front of her. "We liked her. We like her," she swiftly adjusted. "We were happy that you'd found someone you wanted to be with. She's been good for you in many ways, not least just having someone to depend on and having a bigger extended family. You know that's always worried us, for when we're not around anymore. But we were…" she struggled to find the correct word, "…concerned…that your life was changing into something we didn't think you would have chosen on your own. And when you were going to sell the mill, well, it's your life of course, but you can understand how upset we would have been. And she didn't seem to understand how important it was to you either, which seemed…unusual." She took a breath to rearrange her thoughts, and looked up at Jonathan's face, "So if you're asking if we thought she was a perfect match for you, well, who knows? Does that even exist? A parent only knows one side of their child and we had to believe that you and that brain of yours knew what you were doing."

Jonathan brooded into his mug for a couple of minutes before looking up again, "Thank you for being honest," he said softly, "I think part of that is correct. You know I've always been happy in solitude, but not all the time. Having someone to share the future with instead of being alone, well, it's a powerful force. Possibly more powerful than I realised." His mum nodded and reached over to give his arm a quick squeeze as he continued, "But I have realised over the past couple of months that I'd become a different person without even really noticing. There was this day a few years ago when Joey – you remember, Joey Ross, the woman I solved a few cases with - came to find me at the office and openly laughed at what I was doing, how I'd become so corporate. I was offended but, deep down, I knew she was right. I just wouldn't listen to myself. Because I didn't know what to do about it."

"Well now's a chance to change it, isn't it?" responded his ever positive mother.

"I wish it was that simple. It feels like I need to start all over again."

"And what's wrong with that, darling?" continued Sally cheerfully. "Lots of people would like that opportunity."

"Perhaps not quite in these circumstances though" replied Jonathan darkly.

She changed tack, hearing the melancholy in his voice. "Jonathan, I understand that it's difficult. I really do. And I hope being here is helping you. Maybe you just need to go back to the beginning – what were you really passionate about when you were young?"

They looked at each other and grinned. The unspoken word in the air didn't even need to be stated. Magic. Of course.

"Why you couldn't have just followed us both into medicine, I have no idea," teased Sally.

"Feeling faint at the smallest sight of blood isn't really a great prerequisite for that, is it?" he responded with a smile.

"Touché. Are you still involved in that world? Do you still go to see shows, know what's happening?"

"Occasionally. Polly wasn't a fan so it was difficult to make it regular," he grimaced. "But I still get all the magazines. And there's lots online these days which makes it easier to keep track of it all. All these technology advances have changed the way everything works. The things we would be able to do now that were impossible ten years ago…"

There was a gleam in Jonathan's eye that Sally had seen far too rarely since he'd arrived. "So?" she pressed.

"So?"

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" Jonathan looked at her quizzically and she continued with her train of thought. "You've got all this time here. Why not just have some fun? See what new ideas you can come up with. I used to love that, when you'd come and show me and your dad a new trick you'd created," she smiled. "Until you got too good and it all went over our heads, anyway!"

"I don't know," responded Jonathan in a tone that his mum knew meant he'd already decided he would do it. In fact, knowing her son, he'd probably already come up with the idea himself before they'd even had this conversation.

"I had been idling with a few concepts" he continued, and Sally had to suppress too big a smile, happy that she still knew her son so well, and equally happy that he would be spending time on something she knew he truly loved.

"Well then. Keep going with them and who knows what might happen? Maybe you could create something new, or maybe it'll just be something fun to keep your mind off everything else. Either way, it'll be good for you."

Jonathan shrugged non-commitally but Sally could still see a hint of a smile, and his brain already working through some small problem or other. She settled back into her chair, hand wrapped around her mug, and fondly watched her son doing what he did best.

* * *

A few days later, Jonathan came downstairs to make his first coffee of the day, head filled with thoughts of a new locking mechanism he'd read about online the previous evening, and found his mum sitting at the kitchen table, apparently waiting for him.

"Morning darling", she said brightly.

"Morning," he responded with a raised eyebrow, "Why are you looking so suspicious?"

"Am I? Not at all. Well…it's just…the post came before, and there's a letter for you."

Jonathan hadn't received any post in his time there, and didn't know why he would, or where it would come from; his eyebrows furled in surprise. Sally produced an envelope from underneath the newspaper laid out in front of her and handed it over to her curious son.

She could have sworn he paled in shock when he took it from her, and his eyes widened as he appeared to recognise the handwriting immediately. For her part, Sally was very intrigued to know what it contained, because the sender had helpfully written their name in small script on the back of the envelope along with an address: Maddy Magellan.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Jonathan sat at the desk in his bedroom, staring at the envelope which he'd placed on top of a pile of papers in front of him, having taken it from his mum and made a quick exit before she could ask any questions. While he was fairly certain he had correctly guessed that Adam had got in touch with Maddy and told her where he was, it wasn't something he had anticipated, and he didn't know what to think. He had no idea what the letter would contain, and he was apprehensive to find out. He'd thought, for better or worse, that that chapter in his life had been closed, and he'd never expected it to be reopened. He picked the letter up and held it again in his hands, hoping to somehow divine the contents without actually opening it and reading the words inside. On the one hand, there was a small ball of warmth curling in his belly at the mere thought of Maddy, who had once been the most important person in his life, but on the other, there was a sharp blade of fear nicking the edges of that little ball as he contemplated what she was going to say to him.

He thought of the last time he'd seen her and his stomach clenched further in what he recognised as a mix of shame and embarrassment. He'd been in one of his cycles of being sick to death of the on-off relationship they'd been in for what seemed like an eternity. It wasn't even enough of a relationship to be realistically called 'on-off', more of a co-dependency where both their minds occasionally delved into the wonderings of what it could potentially become, or perhaps should have become by now, if it wasn't already too late. He'd been certain in that week that she was intent on making his life difficult, that she wouldn't allow him to move forward to be with someone else, and he resented her for it. He was, however, unwittingly giving himself a huge amount of credit; in the intervening years he'd realised that she must have felt exactly the same way as he did. What he'd failed to recognise was that both of them went through these cycles of frustration and anger, interspersed with the opposite cycle of hope and optimism that things must surely work out for them as a couple one day. Unfortunately they hadn't each moved through these cycles at the same time, so it often happened that one opposed the other, which merely resulted in further tensions and disappointment.

She'd not long been back from her book tour in the US, and they'd enjoyed a few happy weeks of simply being able to enjoy the other's company once more, before another attempt at furthering their relationship was foiled by a stupid argument whose origin he couldn't pinpoint to this day. Two weeks later, he'd been out for a drink with Carla in the pub close to the theatre and, from his vantage point in the corner, he'd seen Maddy come in and start to search the busy room for him, evidently wanting to patch things up. Instead of dealing with the inevitable fallout which he envisioned at the pair of them meeting each other, and the awkward discussion with her after two weeks of not speaking, Jonathan had made a rash decision to play the jealousy card which he knew Maddy would fall for, and he'd leaned towards Carla and kissed her, which she'd been angling for all evening. He'd felt the moment Maddy's eyes hit the pair of them, and pompously presumed to catch the jealous vibes he imagined were radiating from her, but stubbornly refused to look in her direction, pretending not to have seen her. After a few more seconds, he couldn't contain his curiosity, and slid his eyes towards her, only to see the back of her coat disappearing out of the rapidly closing pub door.

He'd felt very pleased with himself for a few hours. He'd shown Maddy that he couldn't be walked all over, and that he had other options, and at the same time he'd moved things forward with Carla, although he'd already known that she wasn't right for him, or he for her. It was only later that evening, in the quiet of the windmill, that a sense of shame had overtaken him. He'd also realised the irony of him doing what Maddy had attempted with Shelford so early in their own friendship (in the same pub, no less!), which he'd mercilessly taken full advantage of at the time, admiring her audacity but thinking that he would never do the same. He'd realised how petty and mean he'd been, but tried to persuade himself that he was merely squaring up the goalposts, that Maddy had had him feeling trapped for too long, although he knew deep down that this simply wasn't true.

From that point on, she'd become more distant, harder to get hold of, unwilling to meet up. She'd never mentioned what she'd seen, and that was when he knew he'd done a truly terrible thing. If it had just been throwaway, she would have brought it up again and again, making him feel bad but ultimately letting him know it wasn't such a big deal. But she hadn't, and he'd continually cursed himself for being too much of a coward to bring it up himself, not willing to entail the soul-baring embarrassment of explaining that he'd done it so that she would see it. He knew of, and even expected, such wild attempts to make him jealous on her part, so regular and over the top they'd become, almost an in-joke between the pair of them which they freely laughed about. He'd finally recognised later that, because he'd never given her any indication that he could be prone to the same mindset, in her view, he must be truly interested in Carla and no longer in her.

Then she'd announced she was taking a job offer in the US, and before he knew it, she was gone. The occasional phone call and letter had followed, but that slowly dwindled to nothing. He'd beaten himself up about what had happened for a long time, but instead of properly grieving for their close friendship or trying to resurrect it, he buried his feelings deep inside and insisted to anyone who asked that they'd simply grown apart.

But now, now, he held a letter in his hands that could maybe bring her back. And that scared and thrilled the hell out of him in equal measure.

Eventually, he took a deep breath and slid his finger under the envelope's seal, then pulled out two sheets of paper with familiar handwriting on them. Taking another breath, he glanced quizzically at his shaking hands, then began to read.

 _Dear Jonathan,_

 _I don't know how to start this letter, so I'll just write and hope it all comes out ok. I know this will come as a shock, or a surprise, or both, after such a long time. Adam tracked me down and told me some of your current circumstances, and said that he was worried about you. He thought I might be able to help. Please don't be angry at him._

Jonathan couldn't help feeling a small sense of smugness that he'd correctly divined how Maddy knew where he was, but he also recognised the absurdity of that in the current situation, and remembered with a small smile how she would have mercilessly teased him for being unable to suppress such a sensation in their first few cases together. He also wasn't sure how to feel about Adam's meddling, with both apprehension and anticipation coursing through him at reading her words, but the magician could save for later.

 _I honestly don't know if I would be a help or a hindrance to you; there are so many memories which have come back to me even since Adam called me, and it's not all been easy to remember. What it has done though, is remind me just how much you helped me with some difficult times in my life, and that, regardless of anything else, you were a very dear friend to me, and it would be wrong of me not to offer that hand of friendship back to you if you need it. And I would be very happy to give it._

At least she didn't hate him, he thought to himself, much more relieved than he cared to admit. Although that made things more difficult. If she just hated him, as he'd told himself over the years, he knew there was little he could do, so it had been easier to deal with. But she didn't, and that released an unmistakable spark of joy inside him, which served only to confuse him further. 'A very dear friend', she'd written. Yes, he thought with sadness, she'd been the best.

 _I'm living in Washington, DC, so I'm not too far from where you are now with your parents. I've often thought of them over the years, wondering if they were still in Philadelphia. I'm glad to hear they are. I work mainly in politics journalism now, which is what drew me here. The corruption and entitlement are mind-boggling._

Of course he knew exactly where she was, and what she worked on. He'd kept track over the years and read every article of hers that he could find. He was proud of her brilliant and difficult political exposés, and very glad she hadn't lost her crusading nature. He'd always admired that so much; a need to right the wrongs which she was able to, whatever the cost.

 _Then occasionally a mystery will fall into my lap and it'll be like being back in London again; there's nothing quite like it, is there?_

This made him smile again, although he wasn't sure if she was referring to the mysteries, or London itself. He surmised that she could have meant both, and hoped she did. He felt a pang of sorrow that she'd been involved in some mysteries without him, and immediately recognised the idiocy of that, given how many he'd solved without her. They'd never been quite as satisfying though, without her alongside him. 

_It saddens me more than you could know that we are no longer in touch. I can't begin to explain or probably make you understand, and it must seem petty or silly to you, but at that time, I couldn't continue pretending to be ok with being your friend and watch from the sidelines as you fell for someone else. It was the best thing to do for you, and for me, but now the years have passed and I would rather be honest than dance around the truth. Time heals a lot. Please don't think I'm trying to apportion any blame to you; it was all self-inflicted. In hindsight…well, hindsight brings a lot of clarity but it's probably best not to get into that here. Suffice to say, I'm sorry._

'You don't have anything to be sorry for', thought Jonathan sadly. He re-read this paragraph multiple times and knew how difficult it would have been for her to write it, even after all these years. He agonised over the words she'd chosen: 'the best thing to do'. Was it really? He knew he'd spend hours mulling over that phrase even as he knew the choice she'd made had been his fault. But he was grateful for the honesty contained in what she'd written, an honesty neither of them would have given to each other, or likely even fully to themselves, back then. He felt that surge of shame once more as the impact of his stupid behaviour was laid bare in front of him, and he closed his eyes to try to contain it, having to grasp the edge of the table to ground himself.

 _I would love to have you back in my life again, as a friend. And I would like to help you if you would let me. I don't want you to feel like you have to, it's completely your choice. That's why I wrote instead of called (not to mention that it's easier to put this in writing than say it to your face). I'll put my email address and number at the bottom of the letter so you can contact me if you decide to, but I understand if you don't._

 _Maddy x_

Jonathan's mind was now in complete turmoil. The shame which had resurfaced was only intensifying at the absolute kindness which was contained in this offering of friendship, and it made him want to weep. She didn't need to offer it; god knew it would be easier for her to maintain the status quo. It was only now that he truly recognised the importance of that small word: kindness. For the first time since being made aware of the letter, he thought of Polly. He realised with alarm that kindness was something which had been sorely lacking in his relationship with her, and from both of them. He wanted to tell himself this was a relatively recent development, but he knew deep down that it wasn't. Sure, Polly had been kind on the surface, but her concern for his wellbeing and his needs had never outweighed her requirement for societal stature and approval. As a result, he'd become tougher and more brittle in response, which had crept up on him gradually. He'd always used sarcasm as a way to avoid facing up to feelings and emotions, but he realised now that he'd begun to use it cruelly, and he didn't like himself for it.

Unbidden, a searing sob escaped Jonathan's body. It shocked him as much as it shocked his mother, who heard the noise from where she sat downstairs reading, and waiting for a sign that all was ok. Evidently it wasn't. It was the first time in decades that he'd fully lost command of his carefully controlled façade and let his emotions take over, and he had no idea what to do about it. His body wouldn't allow his mind to continue this or any train of thought, so he could do nothing but submit. Maddy's letter dropped to the ground as he sobbed, tears streaming down his face which held a conflicting myriad of emotions.

In the depths of his awareness, he faintly recognised that he was grieving for two women and two relationships, and both in completely different ways. The spectre of his brother loomed large too, as did the status of his aimless current career. He finally began to calm down almost an hour later, and had the strength only to move from the chair to the bed where, exhausted, he fell into a deep and thankfully dreamless sleep.

When he awoke in the mid-afternoon, he found a lukewarm cup of tea by his bedside, and a mum-shaped divot on the edge of the bed where she must have sat for a while. He was too drained to even feel any embarrassment at something which he would never have allowed his mum to be witness to.

He brooded for the rest of the day on his newfound realisations about his relationship with Polly, recognising that this would in time turn out to be a positive step forward for him in moving on with his life and reconciling his thoughts about their marriage.

In his head, he also listed all the reasons why it was a bad idea to reply to Maddy, trying to convince himself that it could only lead to further discontent.

Number one: The past was the past. Let bygones be bygones, let history be history. He'd spent, in truth, many years moving on and letting her go, regardless of whether that was his choice or not. It was never a good idea to go backwards, was it? And he'd have to be honest; tell her things he'd never said aloud. He wasn't sure he could handle it.

Number two: He had obviously hurt her, and didn't want to do so further. She said she wanted to be his friend again and to help him, but could he really trust that? How could he be certain she wouldn't want more? He didn't know what he could or would want to give.

Number three: He didn't want to be hurt more himself. He wasn't sure if his heart had the strength to be pushed any further, and he couldn't guarantee that all those old feelings wouldn't resurface. If his response to a few pieces of paper were anything to go by, he was in a very precarious position. He knew where she lived and worked, but that was it – she was most probably with someone else. Could he handle that?

Number four: Surely she couldn't actually help him. Discussing a woman he loved with another woman he'd once loved (yes, _loved_ , he admitted to himself now in astonishment) didn't seem like a very sensible idea. In fact, it seemed like a terrible idea.

But Jonathan also knew that, regardless of what his brain was telling him, his heart couldn't let this opportunity pass him by, even if it meant testing its fragility even further than its current breaking point.

By the time the following morning arrived, Jonathan had made his final decision.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

 _Dear Maddy,_

 _Thank you for your letter. You're right, it was a shock and a surprise. I still haven't decided what I'll do to Adam for contacting you, but it's good to hear from you. It threw me, but I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you wrote._

 _I'm not sure it's a good idea for us to discuss my marriage, or if I'm ready to, but I'd like to be friends again. That seems a shallow thing to say given our history - 'I'd like to be friends' - but there's no other way to word it._

 _I've kept track of your career and read what articles I could find. Glad to see you're still trying to take down the establishment! Your exposé on the Republican campaign funds in the last election was brilliant._

 _I'm also glad to hear you're still solving mysteries. You wouldn't believe some of the ones I've had to figure out._

 _Looking forward to hearing from you again. Tell me about Washington DC._

 _Jonathan_

* * *

 _Dear Jonathan,_

 _I'm so glad to hear from you. I honestly didn't think you would reply. Plus that compliment about my exposé is probably the only one you've ever given me, so even if I don't hear from you again, that'll be worth it._

 _Thanks for emailing instead of writing back. I thought it'd be nice to send you a letter initially, but I'm so used to typing that my hand cramped up after holding a pen for the first paragraph. I did contemplate replying with all the S's removed, like your old typewriter, but I didn't think you'd appreciate it._

 _I understand you might not be comfortable talking about your wife, but I'm here for you if you need it. Any time._

 _DC is a great city. There's always something happening. We live in North Arlington, which is suburban enough to have a bit of peace and quiet, but close enough to the city to be able to be where I need to be when it requires. I work from home a lot, but sometimes I have to get to town quickly for work._

 _And this is when I need to tell you something important. I have a daughter. Her name is Sophie and she's eight. She's extraordinary and she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Her dad isn't around anymore, but Sophie and I get along just fine. She's smart, inquisitive and a complete chatterbox (no surprises there then – I'm saying that before you do!). She's also obsessed with playing soccer and tennis, which certainly doesn't come from me._

 _I have to admit I've also searched out stories about your mystery-solving exploits so I'm aware of some of them at least, but I'd love to hear about them in person. What was the most difficult to solve?_

 _Maddy x_

 _P.S. Don't blame Adam for anything. He's worried about you – amazing for a man I always thought had the emotional range of a teaspoon._

* * *

 _Dear Maddy,_

 _I'll take that comment about the compliments with a pinch of salt. Maybe you always took them the wrong way?_

 _As for the S's? You'll be happy to know that the typewriter still has pride of place on the desk in the mill. Perhap I'll end you a hort letter once I'm back in We t u ex._

 _I had thought you might have a family, but I'll admit it was still a shock to read that you have a daughter. I'm happy for you. She sounds like a great little girl. It must be difficult bringing her up on your own. Have you got a good network of friends there?_

 _What about Barry? Are you still in touch?_

 _And the mysteries. There have been a lot over the years. They all had their difficulties. They've all been as far-fetched as ever! I even got one completely wrong, you'll be happy to hear. It came back to bite me on the last case, but I got there in the end. Funnily enough I don't think I'd have got it wrong in the first place if you'd been there – you were always much better at reading people than me, and that's what I didn't catch on this one at the time. (Another compliment! Unbelievable!)_

 _Jonathan_

 _P.S. Yes, Adam does seem to have discovered a reserve of empathy. Shocking, I agree._

* * *

 _Dear Jonathan,_

 _o you haven't lo t your arca tic en e of humour then?_

 _Re the compliments: yes, I know, I've never been good at accepting praise. Let's leave it there, shall we?! Believe me, there are plenty of things I've realised since we last saw each other. I'm still as hot-headed as ever, but I think I can safely say I'm not quite so quick to act on it these days. Being a mum (or a 'mom') has helped with that immensely; my patience has never been tested so much, and she's not even close to being a teenager yet._

 _Quite honestly, I'm happy that her father isn't in our lives any more. It certainly hasn't been easy and it took a long time for me to deal with, but I think it's for the best for her. He walked out when she was four months old; she was a very poorly baby with terrible colic and reflux. He just couldn't deal with it. So I was left to handle it on my own. I always promised myself that if I had kids, they'd have a proper family, unlike me growing up, but life doesn't always work out like you want it to, does it? I'm sad for Sophie, for her not to have a dad or siblings, but there are much worse situations out there for her to be in, so we just have to move forward and enjoy what we have. And I've not had to worry about money, which is normally a big problem for single parents, so in that regard we're very lucky. I have you to thank for that. If it wasn't for those books, I don't know where we'd be financially._

 _Do you have any children? Adam didn't tell me too much._

 _I've made some good friends here with kids the same age as Sophie, and they are a godsend when there's a big story I have to chase down, and need someone to pick her up from school or take her to soccer practice. Or when I need a glass of wine and a moan about life!_

 _Yes, Barry is still Barry. Actually, he and Jason are Sophie's godfathers. Unofficially anyway; we never did the ceremony. They spoil her rotten when they see her. They go to New York twice a year, so either we'll fly up there or they'll come down here for a couple of nights and a good catch up. They're doing really well. Barry's always trying to convince me to write another book but I haven't got the inspiration yet, plus the day job takes up all of my time right now. One day._

 _I have to ask. Advertising? How on earth did that happen?_

 _Maddy x_

* * *

 _Dear Maddy,_

 _You? Hot-headed? I can't imagine what you mean…_

 _Joking aside, I've realised that at least that meant I knew exactly where I stood with you, and sometimes that's a lot easier than somebody fuming about something but not telling you. So don't be too hard on yourself._

 _I'm sorry to hear about your ex. It must have been very difficult for you. But it's good to know you have people around you for support._

 _No, no children. Polly didn't want kids, so that was something I had to reckon with early on in our relationship. I suppose I'd always thought it would happen one day, but it wasn't a deal breaker for me, so here we are now._

 _I don't know how much Adam told you, but Polly wanted me to put the windmill on the market when we got married, so that we could afford a bigger place in London together. It was thanks to the royalties from your books that I was able to keep hold of it, and that I'm back living there now. So you certainly have nothing to thank me for in regard to your books. Quite the opposite._

 _And as for advertising, I married into the family business. Simple as that. The big magic shows were going out of fashion and Adam wasn't getting the theatre gigs anymore, so a change of scene made sense. Polly's Dad owns the agency. The two are surprisingly similar in a lot of ways actually, manipulating people into believing things that aren't necessarily true._

 _So much for not talking to you about her…sorry._

 _Good to hear about Barry. Sounds like he's still making the most of life._

 _What exactly did Adam tell you?_

 _Jonathan_

* * *

 _Jonathan Creek, I do believe that was almost yet another compliment. What has happened to you?!_

 _I'm very happy to know that the windmill is still yours and that I contributed in some small way. I can't imagine you without it. What would 'The Jonathan Creek Fanclub' say? That one bloke would have to sell his too! Do you think they're still around? I have to say, that was one of the more surreal moments of my life, sitting in that tent surrounded by your wannabe lookalikes in duffle coats!_

 _All Adam told me was that you were going through a separation, and that you'd come over to the States to spend some time with your parents, and he wondered if I could check in with you since I'd be closer than him. As I said, very out of character for him, I thought. I was touched, to be honest; I wouldn't have thought him capable of such empathy. But I'm very grateful to him for it, now that we're back in contact._

 _So what happens now with your work? Have you taken leave, or is it more permanent than that? Do you enjoy it? Advertising, I mean. And the corporate world? I see what you mean about the two being similar, but I still can't imagine you in an office 24/7. It must be different though, having people expect they're being manipulated by magic, vs not realising it in advertising. I wouldn't have thought you'd get the same feeling from the two._

 _As I've said, I'm here for you, so please don't apologise for anything you want, or need, to discuss. I know it might seem strange to write to me about Polly, but I can't presume to know anything about your relationship, and I think time enough has passed between you and I for us both to have moved forward, don't you?_

 _How much longer are you planning to be in Philadelphia for? I'm due to be up there for work in a couple of weeks, if you're still going to be around?_

 _Maddy x_

* * *

 _Dear Maddy,_

 _I'd hope both of us have moved forward. It'd be strange if we hadn't, wouldn't it? It has been over ten years. It seems funny to say that, since some of it feels just like yesterday, and yet some of it feels like a lifetime ago._

 _I'd completely forgotten about the Fan Club. You're right, that was surreal. Not quite as much as the bath of porridge oats though…even for you, that was quite a leap of imagination. That image has been burned into my brain ever since, like a Vincent Price movie._

 _I still have six weeks left on my visa before I have to leave the country, so I think I'll stick around until then. I've left the company, so I am very much in limbo with no job or real idea what to do with myself. There you go with that damn insight of yours; you're right that advertising feels too much like the wrong type of manipulation for me. And the corporate world hasn't been the easiest for me to navigate. I can get by, but to say I enjoy it would be a stretch too far most of the time. I often found myself longing for the days when I was considered an antisocial hermit! I felt trapped by my relationship and my job being so intertwined, yet now I think I should have been careful what I wished for because the future is so uncertain._

 _So to answer your question, yes I'll still be here. What are you coming for? Do you fly or take the train? Or drive? I have to admit I just said 'god forbid' in my head. I can only imagine your response._

 _You apologised to me in your first letter. I want to tell you before we see each other that you have nothing to be sorry for. It's me who should apologise to you. I spent a long time after we were no longer in touch wishing I'd behaved differently; in fact I still do, so I want you to know that I'm sorry._

 _Jonathan_

* * *

 _Dear Jonathan,_

 _I think we both could have behaved differently, and hindsight brings clarity that's impossible at the time, so let's just say that we're even, ok?_

 _But thank you. It means a lot for you to say that. I didn't realise quite how much it would affect me, so thanks for reducing me to tears and leaving my daughter to bewilderingly comfort her mother!_

 _And no, I won't be driving, you'll be happy to hear. Not that you can say anything about that, you irritating person. Remind me again why I thought it would be nice to get back in touch? I'll take the train; it's only two hours and it works out faster than flying when you take transit time into account. I have a couple of interviews to do for a long-form article I'm working on about inequality in the education system. Chicago and Philadelphia have been hard hit by rising crime and violence in the past 18 months, and I'm trying to show a correlation between lack of opportunity for underprivileged kids in their education, and the crime stats. Hopefully someone somewhere will listen once I'm done._

 _I'm coming up early morning on the 12_ _th_ _and leaving on the last train that night. Meet me for dinner?_

 _Maddy x_


End file.
